


do you want to be my (sidekick)

by rories



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rories/pseuds/rories
Summary: post-season 4 finale. what happens after that kiss? samar can see forever with aram. she's finally in a place to get there.we’re kissing on that kitchen floorfriendship up against the ropes





	do you want to be my (sidekick)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whimsicalwombat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwombat/gifts).



> for whimsy for being an absolute _doll_.  <3

“When you came to see me, why didn’t you tell me that Janet was the reason I was in there?” Aram asks it forcefully, a side of him she rarely sees. She likes it, likes to see that he can stand up for what he wants. Right now she hopes he wants her.

“...because,” Samar starts slowly before building steam. “I saw that she was making you happy. That she was-” 

She should have seen it coming. She’s trained to anticipate, to know what’s going to happen in every situation. But she doesn’t have any time to react because he’s stepping into her space, long fingers of one hand coming up to touch her face, and his lips are on hers. She feels a swoop in the pit of her belly and her eyes close before she can tell them not too. She thinks, for half a second, about how she’s missing out on his face, how she’s missing the way it’s probably relaxed in contentment; or maybe scrunch together because he’s nervous. Either way, she’s missing it, but it’s fine because he’s lips are soft, pressed against hers so gently, so even though she can’t see him, she knows his exact feelings right in this moment. 

They pull back, just briefly, and Samar can feel him take a breath, so quick and against her lips, but then she’s bringing her hands up to frame his face and pulling him back in. His other hand makes it’s way behind her, settles between her shoulder blades, and pushes her closer until there is nothing between them. 

It feels like her heart is soaring and she can feel it beating wildly in her chest. She wonders if his is doing the same thing, if he’s feeling the same sense of completeness that she is. Because this is exactly what’s been missing for so long, this feeling of coming home, of being with the only person she wants. She’s wanted him for so long, has been fighting it, has been patient, and finally.

Finally.

Samar pulls away, but her hands stay against his face, thumbs brushing against his cheekbone, her palms rubbing against his beard. She hasn’t been this happy in ages and she can’t help the smile that crawls across her face as she opens her eyes. When she can see him clearly, she can see a matching smile on his own face and that wonderful swoop is back. Her whole body is warm and flushed, but it’s nothing compared to the blush she can see staining Aram’s cheeks. 

They both huff out small laughs as he presses his forehead to hers. She’s not sure what to say and she can see him start and stop his own thoughts. She presses another soft kiss to his mouth and whispers “It’s okay” before taking his hand and leading him back to the elevator he’d just stepped out of. 

She doesn’t know where they’re going, but Aram let’s her lead him to her car. She presses him up against the passenger door when they get there, smiles slyly when his breath hitches at the contact. She wants to spend the rest of her life hearing little sounds like that from him. 

The drive to her apartment is short and they pick up take out on their way. Samar knows how she wants this night to end, but she knows Aram, better than she cares to admit, so she’s sure that he’ll put a stop to anything before they get too far. And she’s fine with that. She wants everything with him, not just to spend the night. She wants the late nights, the early mornings, the lazy Sundays. She wants to eat breakfast with him, wants to run her hands through his messy bed head, wants to smile at him around a toothbrush in their shared bathroom mirror. She wants to go pick up groceries with him, wants to slide her hands under his apron from behind as he’s cooking, wants to curl up on the couch and watch whatever tv show he’s obsessed with at the moment. 

She wants it all and as she looks over at him, face bathed in red light from the stoplight in front of him, eyes gleaming with happiness, she thinks that maybe she can finally have it. She blushes when he turns and catches her eye, right as the light turns green and she’s thankful that she has the distraction of driving. 

Her apartment is clean, thankfully. She’s not a messy person in general, but she’s been known to leave laundry here and there, sometimes dishes in the sink. But that’s not the case tonight, so she doesn’t hesitate to let him follow her into her home, clicking the lock shut behind him. She smiles softly when he jumps and looks over his shoulder at him. 

Samar flings her bag onto the couch and motions for Aram to do the same before heading into her tiny dining room. She grabs plates and utensils and turns to set them on the table, but she’s stopped by how close he is when she turns around. 

He’s crowded into her space, leaving no room between her and the counter behind her. Maybe she was wrong about how far Aram will let them get tonight because one of his hands is resting on her hip, fingers playing with the belt loops on her pants. The other hand comes up and takes the plates she pulled down from her hands, puts them back on the counter before coming up to cup the back of her head. 

Samar’s breathing is ragged as she lifts her own hands to Aram’s biceps, surprisingly firm under her fingertips. She squeezes once and then her eyelids are fluttering closed as his face gets closer to hers. She barely has time to breathe in before his lips on hers, soft and warm and fitting so perfectly. 

He tastes exactly how she imagined he would, like spearmint gum and Chapstick. And he’s so warm, she can feel a heat building inside of her, pooling in the bottom of her belly. Samar has never felt like this about anyone, has never had her breath stolen away the way Aram is doing now. She thinks she’s never been as close to a person as she is in this moment, in the low, dim light of her stovetop, trapped between her counter and the man that’s making her question everything up until now. 

He finally pulls away and they both pull in deep breaths. His is warm on her face when he breathes out and she sees the goosebumps rise on his neck when she does the same. They’re the same height, but she’d toed off her boots when they came through the door, so it puts him at just the right height to move his lips from her mouth to her forehead, pressing his lips there instead. 

Aram’s hands haven’t moved from their spaces on her hip and head and she can feel them both clenching, as if he can’t get enough of her. Her own hands are still gripping fiercely at his upper arms and she never wants to let go, never wants this - them - to end. They’ve just started and she can already see forever with him. 

But he does move away, after a long moment, and grabs the plates from the counter behind her. She watches him as he sets them on the small dining room table she’d bought second hand and then watches him as he pulls out the cartons of food that are slowly but surely getting cold. She smiles softly, lets her gaze follow the shape of his profile, and blushes when he looks up suddenly and smiles. 

It’s in that moment that she realizes. She wants forever with him. And she can have it.


End file.
